


all of these things can be true

by tillysaysfuck



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel & Dean Winchester Wedding - 14 February 2021, Castiel is Saved from the Empty (Supernatural), Castiel listens to Taylor Swift, Domestic Fluff, Everything is Beautiful and Nothing Hurts, Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Post-Season/Series 15, Requited Love, chad lindberg hatecrimed me and all i got was this spn fic, deancas wedding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-18 06:14:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29485071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tillysaysfuck/pseuds/tillysaysfuck
Summary: To love has always been to lose in Dean’s experience - he’s lost Cas more times than he can count, after all - but each minute Cas chose to stay has stretched into days, months, years. Forever isn’t a guarantee, but if Dean had a choice, Cas would be his to spend the time with.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 9
Kudos: 55





	all of these things can be true

**Author's Note:**

> I thought living through November 2020 was the closest I'd ever get to 2014 Tumblr as an adult - turns out I was wrong.

It’s eleven on a Wednesday night. Music plays softly from Cas’s CD player in the far corner of the room, some indie pop ballad from an album Cas has had on repeat for three weeks and counting. A faux fur blanket is draped across their legs, and a mug of tea steams on one of the bedside tables. Dean objects to none of it, relishes in the intimacy of someone else’s mark on his space. Castiel’s presence has become the character of the room itself, indistinguishable from Dean’s in everything but name. There is nothing remarkable about it, a domestic thing like togetherness, yet Dean finds himself wishing it would stretch into perpetuity.

It’s been five months since he got Cas back from the Empty. Dean can’t remember the weeks leading up to performing the spell, the time lost to a strange mixture of grief and avoidance. After losing Cas, it had been impossible to focus on anything other than loss. Dean had opted to throw thinking out the window in an effort to cope, and as luck would have it, his family picked up the roles he couldn’t. Sam and Eileen had helped with the planning, scouring the planet for the rare ingredients needed to bring a life back from the Empty. Dean had had enough drive for the three of them, and so their combination of skill and need pulled them through to the other side. The memory of rescuing Cas is a blur; thick smoke and the scent of rosemary, a flash of fire over a cauldron. Blood burned and a door to the Empty opened in the war room, black tendrils spewing grace and flesh from its grasp. Dean hadn’t told the others what Cas had said before leaving, but he didn’t need to. The first thing he did after helping Cas up from the black puddle on the floor was to cry and kiss him.

Things were different after that. What was normally left unsaid came bubbling out; the care and need and desire that had remained hidden for a decade was allowed to bloom in open air. The feelings were raw, jagged around the edges from being twisted and pressed down over time. Details would be fine-tuned, communication skills would be learned, but the bond between them provided a start at something more. It was overwhelming at first, the way Dean allowed himself to feel. But as time went on, it became clearer than ever that this was exactly the life he was supposed to live. A good one, surrounded by all the things that made him feel like hanging on wasn’t only an option, but a necessity.

It would be impossible to remove Cas from his life. The thought is all at once comforting and frightening.

“Let’s get married.”

The words send a shock through Dean’s system before he’s even finished saying them. They’re lying in bed together as they often do these days, Dean and Cas, Cas and Dean. Their limbs are spread across the mattress, hands entwined, the lamplight dim on each side of the bed that used to belong solely to Dean. Everything and nothing has changed about the room since Cas moved in. It was an unofficial thing, the way Cas began spending his nights in Dean’s room after returning from the Empty. Nights together stretched into daylight, and soon they became a package deal. Cas doesn’t have much in the way of material possessions - the only sign he lives here is his steady breathing, the ease with which he leafs through Dean’s books when the hunter sleeps beside him. He makes himself known now by pausing, taking an extra moment to breathe in deeply as though he’s still not quite accustomed to it.

“Are you proposing to me, Dean?”

“Yeah,” Dean turns to him, his movements slow and measured. It is not the caution of a hunter’s instinct that guides his actions, but the familiarity of a lover’s. “S’pose I am, Cas.”

The smile that greets him is unexpected, softer and wider than the ones the angel usually displays. The crow’s feet framing his eyes almost make him look human, and Dean is met with the suddenness of his actions, the way Cas makes him follow his heart rather than his head. To love has always been to lose in Dean’s experience - he’s lost Cas more times than he can count, after all - but each minute Cas chose to stay has stretched into days, months, years. Forever isn’t a guarantee, but if Dean had a choice, Cas would be his to spend the time with.

“You gonna say something?” Dean’s voice is a murmur, the smile dancing on his own lips reflected in Cas’s eyes.

“Hmm,” Cas drags out the sound as though he’s undecided, yellow light flickering across his playful gaze. “Correct me if I’m mistaken, but human tradition in North America generally calls for the proposer to get down on one knee.”

“I’ll get down on both if that’s what it’ll take to get you to answer, you dick.”

Cas laughs, and the sound is something better than heaven, a thing Dean’s vocabulary will never quite be able to explain. He shifts his body towards Dean, squeezes his hand and pulls it towards his chest. “I believe I have made it clear to you that I am dedicated to you, Dean. To be with you forever? To be entrusted with loving your soul? I can think of no greater honour. I would be happy to marry you.”

Dean feels something within him loosen, like a knot being untied in the pit of his stomach. He doesn’t know what he expected, but the ease with which Cas says shit like that never fails to unravel him. “I love you.” It’s barely audible, all he can manage with emotion clinging to his throat like a web.

Before he knows it, Cas is pulling him in and kissing him. One of them laughs, and Dean thinks it might have been him as he kisses Cas back, the angel’s t-shirt bunched in his hands, their legs tangled in Cas’s blanket. It’s impossible to think of a time before Cas stayed, of the years of longing and avoidance that somehow culminated into  _ this  _ \- a sort of love that Dean never imagined he could survive.

They stay like that for a while, made real by each other’s touch. There is time to make up for, and Dean is certain he’d be happy spending the rest of his life doing just that.

Cas is the one to speak first, the one who always speaks first. “What does your idea of marriage entail, Dean?”

Dean stares up at the ceiling, a flush spread over his cheeks as he considers it. “Dunno. You, here with me like this. No expiration date on it, you know?” He turns his head on the pillow, reaches across to touch Cas’s shoulder as though he’s confirming the moment is real. “Guess that’s all I want. Just a promise to you that I’m not going anywhere.”

Cas’s smile is soft, knowing. He covers Dean’s hand in his own and guides it to his lips, pressing a kiss to the man’s knuckles. “Then as far as I’m concerned, we are married according to your definition of the word. I’m not going anywhere either, Dean.” Another kiss to his hand. “Promise.”

It’s a simple thing to say, and yet Dean finds himself staring at Cas with what must be a stupid love-sick expression plastered to his face. He laughs again, softer this time, and decidedly more relaxed. “Okay. And if I tell you I wanna have a party for the wedding? Like a real reception and shit, dancing and everything. Would you still say yes?”

“I’ll say yes if you allow me to contribute to the dance playlist.”

“I’ll wait until the honeymoon to make fun of your music.”

Cas raises an eyebrow. “Didn’t I walk in on you listening to my CDs the other day?”

Dean grunts dismissively and pulls Cas close to his chest. “Yeah, well, I can listen to something and still make fun of it.” He feels Cas’s silent laughter, the angel’s body shifting in his arms. “I, uh . . . I don’t even have a ring for you.”

“There’s time for all of that.” Cas murmurs against him. “Your bones are marked by my grace, and I pieced your being back together, soul and all.”

“Romantic,” Dean rolls his eyes.

“Extremely. If you’d like, however, I can get a ring for you as well.” Cas glances up at him, a wry smile on his face. “Most people won’t be able to see the Enochian sigils on your ribs.”

“Yeah,” Dean answers a little too quickly. Despite the way he uses humour to diminish his feelings, the idea of something as normal as marriage and the traditions that come with it are a big deal to him. It’s something he never considered he could have, and now that he’s allowed to think of the possibilities, he wants to go the full nine yards. “Yeah Cas, I’d really like that.”

“Then you’ll have a ring.”

Dean nods and closes his eyes, pressing his face into Cas’s hair as he holds him. “When do you think we should tell people?”

The soft strums of a guitar sound from the CD player, and Cas hums along for a moment before answering. “Sam should be back from his visit with Eileen in a few days. We can tell him in person.”

“Yeah. Yeah, good idea.” The way Cas always seems to read his mind has become natural, if not always expected. “Get to keep the news to ourselves for a bit. Can’t lie, I like that. Like it’s just for us, at least for a while.”

“At least until our reception party.”

“You’re goddamn right. Knew I made a good choice asking you to marry me.”

“Yes,” Cas pulls the blanket up closer around their shoulders. “Yes, I think you did. I love you, Dean.”

Dean presses a kiss to the top of his head. “Love you too, Cas.”

Quiet settles over them like a warm breeze. Cas’s breathing has slowed as if in preparation for sleep. He doesn’t need to, of course, but as of late he’s slept alongside Dean simply because he knows Dean likes it. He feels comforted by the angel’s presence, and besides, there’s something about waking to each new day with the person you love just an arm’s length away. It makes him feel solid, rooted in something beyond himself. To think that he has an entire lifetime of waking up beside Cas is hardly something Dean can fathom. Still, the thought makes him happy, and as he drifts off to sleep, Dean figures happiness is something worth hanging onto.

**Author's Note:**

> title is from happiness by taylor swift because cas is a swiftie and he deserves to be happy without being violently hatecrimed, i don't make the rules


End file.
